


everybody knows that it's me or you

by Tash_ka



Series: how did your debts get paid? [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur was shot not sick, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I just wrote it to make myself feel better, Probably ooc, kinda fluff towards the end, no TB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 21:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17475095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tash_ka/pseuds/Tash_ka
Summary: Arthur is finally ready to seek closure.





	everybody knows that it's me or you

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, I didn't want to write a fic, I just needed to cheer myself up and, before I've noticed, it was half done. Anyway, I've figured I might as well post it here for your poor, suffering souls. I hope you enjoy!

He stood, unmoving, back leaning against a tree, as he watched last rays of sun setting over the horizon. The thick veil of trees was giving him enough cover to observe life in the camp below, without being seen by its occupants. There wasn’t much to see. Several men were slowly settling down around a fire, bottles of whiskey in their hands. Another few hours passed, and the camp got quiet, everyone either passed out from drinking or asleep. The fire gradually died down and now the only source of light was coming from a tent that stood a little further to the right, next to the river.

From time to time Arthur could see a silhouette of a man moving inside. He tried to ignore the pain in his chest at the sight of him. When he left this morning, assuring Sadie and Charles that, yes, he was ready to face the man, he was so certain it was true. But right now, moments before seeing him again, his confidence was waving. The hurt that he worked so hard to bury deep inside, the art that he finally mastered after months of trying, was back, stronger than ever. It didn’t matter, he came too far to turn back now.

It was easy to sneak between the trees, almost without making a noise and creep slowly towards the tent. One deep breath and he was opening the flap of the tent, making sure both of his hands were visible to the man inside, who turned around before Arthur could say anything, pistol in hand. 

There was a flicker of joy in Dutch's eyes, as he recognized him. Just for a moment, a spark of something kind, barely noticeable to someone who didn't know him as well as Arthur did, a reminder of better, easier days. It almost made Arthur take a step back, his head suddenly spinning with memories. Then Dutch's eyes narrowed quickly in distrust.

“Arthur” his voice was low and controlled, as he took a slow, almost unnoticeable step forward. If Arthur didn't know better he could think the other man was expecting him, that he somehow heard Arthur approach. But he did know better. He spent over twenty years running with Dutch, seeing him con people, trusting him and being betrayed in the end, no one knew Dutch better than him. He was no longer blindsided by trust, unable to see clearly the great conman before him. He knew that all this calm was just a facade, that Dutch wasn't really in control right now.

The other man holstered his pistol, but still stood eyeing him carefully, unsure of Arthur's intentions. Arthur couldn't blame him. After what happened the last time they saw each other, he wasn't surprised that Dutch was wary of him. But he was hurt. To think that after all they'd been through, all the love and hardship shared between them, they would end up like this, it was terrible to experience. Was their bond really so weak and fragile that it broke so easily? That all it took, for Dutch to throw away twenty years of friendship and trust, was one snake pouring venom into his ear? 

Arthur bit the inside of his lip to keep his anger at bay. Or despair, he wasn’t sure which feeling was stronger right now, but it wasn't the time to let his emotions show. He came here to get answers.

Containing his anger proved to be a really difficult task, especially after Dutch's eyes paused on his and he spoke again. 

“Are you here to kill me, Arthur? Did the son finally turned against his father?” Dutch asked gently, with that benevolent smile that always looked sincere on Hosea, but on him looked just wrong. 

“Hello, Dutch” Arthur’s moves were slow and methodical as he stepped inside the tent, sending the other man a sharp smile. “I’m glad you’re alive too.”

He saw Dutch’s hand gripping the pistol on his hip tighter, face unreadable. “I’ve asked you a question, son.”

Arthur shook his head in disbelief at the entire exchange. To think that Dutch would ever feel the need to ask him something like that, oh how far they had fallen. 

“I would never turn against you, Dutch” Arthur replied calmly, too calm for Dutch not to see it for what it really was. A carefully built facade that could crack any minute, showing all the hurt and anger inside. “You, on the other hand, didn't have a problem turning your back on me.”

“You don't know what you're talking about” Dutch raised his voice, taking another step forward, then collected himself, looking quickly towards the entrance to the tent. “Listen, son” he made a move to put his hands on Arthur's shoulders as he came even closer, but was stopped by Arthur taking a sudden step back. 

“No, for once in your life, you listen” he tried to ignore the satisfaction that seeing Dutch fall silent gave him. “I didn’t come here to hear your excuses and pretty words. We both know what you did. There’s no one else here, so there’s no need to pretend and spin tales that aren’t true for benefit of the others. I just want to know why, why would you betray me like that, Dutch?”

“I’m not the one who came here with intention to kill you, Arthur. And you want to talk about betrayal?”

A short, broken laugh found his way out of Arthur’s throat, as he stared at Dutch, incredulous. 

“I gave you everything, Dutch. I killed for you, even when I knew it wasn't right. I was willing to die for you, hell, I did almost die for you” Dutch's eyes widened slightly at the last words “but you still don't see that my loyalty was always to you, you and our family.”

Arthur could feel tears gathering in his eyes and quickly blinked them away, still staring pointedly into Dutch's eyes, not caring if he saw them or not. All those years of blind trust and this was a result? The man he sacrificed so much for, standing there, throwing betrayal in his face so easily. “You have the audacity to stand here and accuse me of betraying you? As if I was ever able to do that.” He bit back the tears and continued.

“You were the one that left me. I tried to keep us together after everything that happened. All by myself, while you were busy chasing God knows what. I tried to keep our family safe, you and John, after Hosea...”

“Don't say it...” Dutch growled, clear warning in his voice. 

“He died, Dutch. Not saying his name won’t bring him back to life. You weren’t the only one left broken by what happened to him, it hurt me to, but at least I tried to keep us together.” Arthur was aware that his voice was getting louder, but he was past the point of caring. It was like the dam finally broke and the words he wanted to say for so long came crashing down, destroying everything in their way, but also strangely soothing every hurt he felt for so long. “I needed you to help keep our family safe! But you could never look at what we had and think that it was enough. You were always after the next big thing, not realizing that the present was falling apart, that our family was falling apart!”

“I wanted to keep us safe, but we needed more money...”

A broken laugh left Arthur's lips. “Of course, and you pushed me and John aside, because what?”

“Arthur, you know that you and John are like sons to me” 

The rage inside Arthur was boiling at hearing those words, so clearly lies, told only to get him back in line. Did Dutch believe he will just accept them after what had happened with John? No one treated their son like that.

“Always with the pretty words, Dutch. But I'm done believing them. You chose that rat over our family, you trusted him more than you trusted me!”

“Arthur...” Dutch was clearly at a loss of words now, brows creased in concern at the sight of Arthur breaking down in front of him.

“And where is he now, Dutch?” Arthur carried on, as if powered by the conflicted emotions inside him.

“I told him to get out” Dutch said quietly, as his eyes escaped Arthur's for a moment before coming back. His first genuine reaction since Arthur came here. 

Arthur snorted, humourlessly. 'Well, I hope he was worth it, breaking our family apart' he finished and looked at Dutch with weary eyes as all fight left him, giving place to hopelessness, a feeling that he became so accustomed to during the last year. He felt himself swaying slightly, suddenly lightheaded. Then there was a set of strong hands grabbing his shoulders and holding him steady. 

“My boy” another lie, as Dutch guided him slowly towards a cot in the corner of the tent, ignoring Arthur's quiet “Don't”. 

He sat down heavily, still dazed and felt Dutch's warm presence next to him, one of his hands still on Arthur's shoulder. 

“I thought I lost you, my boy” Dutch said gently, his voice soothing Arthur, every word like a salve for his bruised soul. “I've hurt you, I've hurt you so badly, our family, our friends. I can't repent enough for that” he continued, each word sweet as honey, breaking Arthur's already crumbling resolve piece by piece. Even though his brain screamed at him that it was all lies, his heart ached to believe Dutch. To believe that the man who was like a father to him was still there, that everything could go back to the way it was. 

“Stop trying to manipulate me” Arthur protested, his voice surprisingly strong, the opposite of what he was feeling inside. He shrugged off the hand on his shoulder, turning his face towards Dutch. For the first time this night he could see that the older man was really rattled. His serene expression from before changed as his eyes widened and lips parted slightly. He stared at Arthur wordlessly, searching his face for explanation. “Caring for me, calling me your son, do you think I'll just forget everything you've done?”

“I do those things because I love you, son” Dutch replied like it was something obvious, something Arthur should have already known. And although Arthur still didn't believe him, he couldn't deny the spark of something genuine in the other man's eyes. 

"What about all the other things? Were they also because you love me? Did your love for me made you leave me to die on that mountain?" Arthur sneered, ignoring the overwhelming desire to forgive that was slowly raising inside of him. Those words, spoken few years, even few months ago, would have made him happy, hearing them he would gladly pick up his gun and follow Dutch anywhere. Now the feeling they evoked was sullied by the memories of John in chains, of Dutch turning his back on him, of Micah's laugh as everything hurt. He wasn't going to be kept in line once again, that's what led them to this mess in the first place. 

Dutch sighed and stood up abruptly, his back turned to Arthur as he walked to the other side of the tent. He stopped in front of a table and it took Arthur a moment to realize what he was looking at. It was the same photograph he had hanging next to his cot for so many years. The photo was taken when there was only the three of them, before John joined their little gang. Dutch and Hosea forced him to dress up and Arthur cursed them all the way to the photo studio. They were all so young back then. 

Arthur could also distinctly remember that Dutch had lost his copy some time ago. So this one must have been his, taken by Dutch from Arthur's tent after he left him to die. Dutch clearly cared about this photo otherwise he wouldn't have it framed and displayed like that. It was surprising, he never took Dutch as a sentimental type. 

"It's funny, I never knew how much I needed him until he died." Dutch said after a moment, still looking at the picture. His thumb stroked the glass frame until it stopped on Hosea. 

Arthur nodded, suddenly feeling melancholic at the memory of his second father. "Yeah, me too. Between the three of us he was always the voice of reason. Never afraid to tell you what he thought of you." 

Dutch barked a laugh, finally turning towards Arthur. "Believe me, I know. I thought he was going to kill me after I took you on your first job without consulting him. He had a pistol aimed right at my head and said, dead serious 'Dutch, if you ever put our boy in danger like that again I'm going to make sure no bounty hunter recognizes your dead body'. I believed him."

Arthur shook his head, slight smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. "Old fool, overreacting as always. It was a simple coach robbery and I wasn't a child." 

"He was right." Dutch cut him off sharply. Arthur looked at the other man, bemused. Only now did he notice that sometime during their reminiscence Dutch's mask has slipped, revealing regret and pain in his features. "If he was here he would shoot me right in the face. And he would be right to do it." 

"Dutch" Arthur started, meaning to excuse Dutch's behaviour, an offer of forgiveness already on his lips, before he stopped himself. The unsaid words hanged in the silence between them, until Dutch sighed and started speaking again. 

"I'm disappointed that you think I'm saying all those things just to manipulate you, Arthur. But mainly I’m disappointed in myself. I can't really blame you. I don't even have any excuse for my behaviour. Was I half mad with grief and mourning? Probably. Lost without my voice of reason? Caught up in trying to provide for our people no matter the cost? Trusting those I shouldn't trust and pushing my real friends aside? Yes, to all of those things." Dutch stopped to catch a breath. He inhaled deeply and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "But also" he spoke again, this time much more quietly, not quite looking Arthur in the eyes anymore. "I felt threatened." 

"Threatened by me?" Arthur frowned at that. 

"Of course” he said as if it was smoothing obvious. “You, Arthur Morgan, with your self-deprecation and humbleness. You could never see what I see when I look at you. A leader." Dutch raised his head, something wistful in his gaze. 

Arthur snorted, dismissing the words with a wave of a hand. Dutch gave him a look, one eyebrow raised pointedly. That smug bastard, thinking he knew him so well. 

"See? Just like I said. You still don't think you are a leader, even though you have people that would follow you anywhere." 

"How do you..." Dutch just smirked at him. Definitely too smug. "I thought you were asking for forgiveness, not gloating" That was one way to kill the mood. Arthur felt almost sorry for the loss of the easy air that was back between them for a moment, but he couldn't let Dutch off so easily. 

The other man cleared his throat. "Like I said, back then I was out of my mind with no one to set me straight. You tired, I know that now, but I saw it as insubordination. I thought that you were trying to take my place." 

"You thought I was going to kill you?" Arthur stood up abruptly. The mere thought that Dutch suspected he was capable of something like that made his blood boiling. Dutch nodded, looking somewhere behind Arthur. "And now?" 

"I thought you came here for revenge. And you would be right to want one." Dutch's eyes stopped on his, face serious. "I've realized the mistake I've made as soon as I left you on that mountain. I never knew how much I needed you until I realized you were dead." He huffed out an ugly laugh, shaking his head. "I'm such a fool Arthur. I didn't learn my lesson the first time and it caused me to lose you as well."

"I'm still alive, Dutch. And I don't want revenge. I came here to understand." Arthur was looking straight at Dutch, willing him to believe that he was genuine.

"Do you understand?" 

"I want to. Just like I want to believe you've changed."

"Arthur, you know I'm telling you the truth.” It was clear that Dutch was barely stopping himself from reaching for Arthur, only halted by previous attempts that didn’t end well. 

"Oh, I know that you mean what you are saying. Hell, it's the most honest you've been with me for a long time. But I don't know if I can trust you to make the right choices this time. If it was just me, I would follow you to the end of the line, Dutch, but like you said, I have people who depend on me now. I can't bring them into whatever new plan you have."

"My son" Dutch said those words, looking at Arthur as if he saw him for the first time, something akin to pride in his eyes. Arthur lowered his gaze, not able to bare that look. Then he felt Dutch’s arms around him, pulling him into a hug and he all the tension melted from his body. He sighed contently into their embrace and wrapped his arms around Dutch’s back. 

Arthur wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, before they broke away a little awkwardly. Dutch cleared his throat, taking few steps away from Arthur.

"How are your people? Last time I heard you were helping John build a ranch?" His voice was horse as he spoke, eyes blinking dangerously fast. 

"You were following me?" Arthur quirked an eyebrow, observing the smile that started forming on Dutch’s face in response to his words.

"Just checking if everything was alright" he shrugged, a glint in his eyes silently challenging Arthur to comment. Arthur just shook his head in amusement. 

"We bought ourselves a bit of land, now we are trying to make a home."

"I saw Mrs. Adler picking up bounties west from here." 

Arthur laughed. "God help you if she ever wants to hunt you down. It's like having the devil on your trail. But she's helping a lot. Charles too. He feeds our group almost single-handedly, beats me how he does it. Soon we'll be able to buy some animals and have a real ranch"

"Arthur Morgan, a farmer. I never thought I'd hear that." It was Dutch’s turn to laugh.

"Believe me, me neither." There was a moment of peaceful silence between them. Both man staring at one another with small smiles playing on their lips. "You should come visit us someday." 

Dutch's eyes widened. "Arthur, I don't think I'll be welcome there." 

"John will throw a fit, as usual, but you two should talk. The rest of them is hurt, but nothing a little time can't fix. And Jack is constantly asking about his Uncle Dutch, if anything, you'll be doing us a favour, it gets really annoying after a while." 

Arthur meant what he said. He thought that he was done with Dutch, that this conversation would be their last one. He came hear thinking that he would heal himself or make even more damage, but either way he would get closure. And now that he had closure he wasn’t satisfied. Could anyone really blame him that he wanted to have his family back together? 

"I'll... see what I can do" Dutch replied after a moment of hesitation, voice strangled in his throat. His eyes roamed over the walls of the tent for a second, unsure where to look, until they stopped on a bottle of whiskey on the table. "Would you like to have a drink with me, Arthur?"  
"Sure” Arthur replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but they both knew that he wanted to stay more than anything. “I have a few hours to kill before I have to leave. Might as well spend them here." Dutch smirked at him, obviously not fooled even a little bit, but Arthur could see relief washing over his features. It was alright that Dutch knew he wanted to stay. They both wanted it.

He sat down in the chair that Dutch gestured him to and watched as the older man poured their drinks. Dutch placed himself on the chair next to the table. His face was turned towards Arthur, pensive. 

"Son?" Arthur hummed in acknowledgement, taking a sip from his cup. "I'm sorry" Arthur's head shot up in surprise at those words, sharp eyes on Dutch. "For all the suffering I've caused you. I don't think I've ever apologized for that." 

"I don't think I've ever heard you apologize for anything before, Dutch." Arthur snorted, scratching the back of his head. "Age catching up with you, old man?" 

Dutch smiled slightly in response, his gaze once again wandering towards the photograph on the table. "More like my mistakes finally catching up with me. Now that I know the pain of losing you, I don't want to lose you again, Arthur." 

"Believe me, me neither. That's why I'm here." Arthur leaned a little forward in his chair, elbows supported on his knees. "Always was and always will be here for you, Dutch."

Dutch smiled at him. There was a look in his eyes that Arthur recognized from many years ago, but hasn't seen for so long that he almost forgot it ever existed. There was pride mixed with affection in that look. Promise of protection and love and, above all, promise of trust. Arthur couldn't keep himself from grinning widely at that, especially as Dutch replied, voice hard and sure. "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think. I'd really appreciate it :)


End file.
